Dinner With A Side Of Death Threats
by HollowIsTheWorld
Summary: Sheriff Stilinski wanted his son to be happy, but finding out he was dating Derek Hale while interrogating Derek for murder... Well, that probably wasn't the best thing that could have happened.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Inspired by an amazing gifset by simplystiles on tumblr. I hope I did it justice.

**Disclaimer****:** I don't own Teen Wolf, or anything else. I'm a poor, broke college student. Don't sue me.

* * *

Honestly, Derek felt that the whole thing was getting a bit ridiculous. The first time had been understandable. They had found Laura's body - or half of it - buried behind his house, after all. The second time too, seeing as how Scott and Stiles had actually _told_ the sheriff it had been him who was attacking them in the school. Irritating, but understandable. But really, what reasoning did they have for dragging him in now?

The death had been pretty normal, likely the victim of a standard mugging. No weird animal marks or a sliced in half body lying in the woods. She'd been found stabbed to death in an alley. Simple enough. But the police apparently didn't have any leads and Derek seemed to have become their default murder suspect. He couldn't even blame this one on any of his betas. Just the Beacon Hills police department making up leads where they couldn't find any.

The sheriff didn't appear all that sympathetic or intimidated by Derek's disgruntled glare as he sat down on the other side of the interrogation table. The Alpha let out a long, aggravated sigh. "Are you going to haul me in for questioning every single time someone drops dead in this goddamn town?"

The sheriff didn't appreciate Derek's attitude. "Just tell me where you were last night between eleven P.M. and two A.M.?" It was half a polite question, and half an order with a vague threat behind it. Derek wasn't sure how he did that, but it was sort of impressive.

"I was at home," Derek told him, an unspoken 'duh' lingering behind the words. He was trying to use a bit of self-preservation and common sense to be polite to the man with the ability to put him behind bars, but he really wasn't feeling it at the moment. Even when he forcibly reminded himself that this was Stiles' _father_ he was talking to, and he really should try to get onto his good side.

"Of course," the sheriff sighed with a resigned air. Not like Derek was going to have said anything else. Granted, where else would someone be in the middle of the night, if not at home or out murdering people? "I don't suppose you have someone who can verify your alibi?"

Sheriff Stilinski's tone made it only too clear that he didn't expect Derek to have one. Whether it was because he fully believed that Derek had committed the murder or simply because he didn't think that Derek had enough of a social life to have company he didn't know, but he found himself somewhat rankled by the implication. His answer came before he'd thought it out properly. "Actually I do."

The sheriff looked at him in surprise, but recovered from it quickly. He was a professional, after all. "…Then you'll have to give me a name."

That was when what he'd said hit Derek fully. "I can't," he said, swallowing hard. He doubted that was going to fly with the sheriff, but nothing about telling the older Stilinksi who he'd been with the night before sounded like a good idea.

The man's face hardened, anger seeping through enough to make even Derek just a little bit nervous. "Son, this is the third time you've been considered a murder suspect. If you don't want to end up in jail, you better give me the name." He was almost shouting by the time he was done speaking. If he'd been a werewolf, his betas would have been cringing on the floor by now.

Derek gulped. He couldn't lie, the alibi would be blown apart in no time and he'd look even guiltier than the police already considered him to be. Telling the truth didn't sound delightfully attractive though.

He gave one last weak attempt to make the sheriff back off from this line of questioning. "You won't like it," he warned.

The sheriff glared him down, uncaring, and repeated his question once more. "Who were you with last night?"

Derek took a deep breath in preparation. There was really no way that this was going to end well. "Stiles."

There was a long silence as the sheriff stared at Derek, who was now staring at his hands in his lap. The sheriff spoke first, voice cautious as he broached the potentially volatile subject.

"Stiles said he stayed over at Scott's last night." It wasn't a question looking for confirmation, it was very clearly a statement that Derek was being dared to contradict.

And he had to contradict it. It was too late to keep it secret any longer, and, if Derek was being completely honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd never felt right about hiding him and Stiles from the sheriff, for multiple reasons. He looked up at the sheriff, but lowered his eyes back to his lap at the first risk of eye contact.

"He didn't," he replied, trying not to seem too much of a threat to the police officer seated across from him, who was growing progressively angrier. "He stayed at my place. We've… he's done that a couple of times now." He let the sheriff draw his own conclusions from that statement.

The sheriff's face had turned into a sight that anyone - werewolf or not - would have the good sense to be wary of. "Are you insinuating you're in a relationship with my underage son?" He wasn't shouting. He was speaking quietly and tensely, which seemed a hundred times more threatening right now. Derek could handle anger, he was used to anger. He wasn't so good with… Well, with much of anything else.

The fact that this man had possession of a lethal weapon - not lethal to werewolves, but even regular bullets hurt like a bitch - had never been quite so apparent. Drawing up all the courage he could Derek replied, "Yes, I am." He was careful to not make it sound like some sort of challenge.

Derek could see the man change from law enforcement officer to father right before his eyes, almost instantaneously. "You - Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you on the spot!" He was screaming at Derek and had stood up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands flat on its surface.

Derek's instincts were trying to make him smaller, less of a threat. Protective fathers were terrifying, whatever supernatural abilities one might possess. He bowed his head, ashamed as the sheriff voiced the very concerns Derek had been trying to ignore since this thing with Stiles had started. "I don't have one," the werewolf said quietly, barely loud enough for the sheriff to hear.

Stiles was actually in the act of pulling on his red hoodie when his dad walked in the door after work.

"Hey, Dad, can't talk, gotta run," Stiles called out to him, even as he was in the act of reaching for the door handle.

"Oh, yeah?" Something in his dad's tone caused him to freeze mid-step. "Where to this time? Actually to Scott's, or do you want to go to Derek Hale's again?"

Stiles felt his stomach drop and his brain started to work through a thousand different lies, excuses, imaginings for how his dad knew, anything and everything. All that came out of his mouth, though, was, "Sorry, what?"

His dad had walked over to him by now, so that they were face to face. His face was sterner than Stiles could remember having seen it in a long time. "I'm only going to ask you this once, so I want you to think about the answer very carefully. Are you or are you not in a relationship with Derek Hale?"

"Why would you-"

"The truth, Stiles!" his dad shouted. Stiles gulped. He didn't know _how _his dad knew about him and Derek, but he clearly did. Stiles couldn't make himself say anything, but when he broke eye contact, bit his lip, and started staring at the floor, it was enough of an answer for the sheriff. "Oh, Jesus."

"How did you find out?" Stiles asked, a little timidly.

"I'm asking the questions now." He wasn't quite shouting, not yet, but it was close. It was clearly not a good idea to interrupt him just now. "What the hell are you thinking? Do you know what statutory rape is?"

"You can't just arrest him!" Stiles shouted, his voice squeaking a little.

"Arrest him? The only reason I didn't shoot him is that I didn't think he'd be worth the paperwork!"

Stiles' mind was going faster than a cheetah on speed by now, and that threat zeroed all those thoughts in on one track. "If you press charges against him, I swear I will declare under oath that he never touched me."

The sheriff's eyes softened a little in hurt and betrayal, inciting a twinge of guilt in his son, but Stiles didn't take his words back. He had to help Derek, if he could.

"Why are you doing this?" his dad asked, voice quieter than before, worry lacing the words.

It took Stiles a few false starts before he could make himself respond. The truth may not have been the best decision, but they were the only words he could seem to find. "I love him."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Oh, emotions. It's a good thing I'm writing this based off a gifset because I can't write this much dialogue this well by myself.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Teen Wolf, or anything else you may recognize. Almost all of the dialogue comes from the gifset made by simplystiles on tumblr. I made only mild changes to make it flow better in certain places.

* * *

The evening had progressed into anger and awkwardness pretty quickly after that, but it really hadn't gone anywhere. After almost an hour of Stiles and his father going around and around in a never-ending loop of declarations of emotions and angry protests, they finally both gave up.

Stiles went to his room, feigning exhaustion. His dad let him go without a protest, just continuing to look upset and disappointed. That hurt, although Stiles had to admit that he deserved a lot worse. He should have known that keeping him and Derek a secret was going to blow up in his face. He hadn't expected it to be quite so bad as for his dad to find out during a murder investigation, though.

The sheriff called through the door a little bit after that, telling him that the station had called with a lead about their case and he had to go. Stiles waited until he heard the car pull out, and then opened his window.

Derek arrived less than ten minutes later.

"How did the conversation with your father go?"

Stiles groaned into his pillow, refusing to get up from the bed. "I don't want to talk about it." It came out muffled, but he was sure that the point got across.

He heard Derek sigh, and knew he probably had his dumb brooding expression on. Stupid werewolf with his stupid self-pity problem.

"Look, whatever he said about me, it was most likely the truth." Stiles rolled his eyes, despite Derek not being able to see his face from where it was still squashed into the pillow. "Actually," the werewolf continued, sounding as if he was talking half to himself, "the truth is probably worse."

Stiles made an angry huff and pushed himself off the mattress, standing up and turning to face Derek. "How can you think so little about yourself? Stop talking about yourself as if you were a monster!" His tone would have made it clear to any observer that they'd had similar conversations before.

"Stiles, I _am_ a monster," Derek told him, voice pained and eyes sad. He looked depressingly resigned to his fate.

"I wasn't talking about your furry little problem," Stiles snarled in irritation. Honestly, if Derek hadn't figured out by now that Stiles wasn't fazed by the werewolf thing...

Derek met his eyes and Stiles knew that he was about to regret this entire conversation. "Neither was I."

Stiles stopped in his tracks and they looked at each other in silence for several long minutes. Stiles sat down on the edge of his bed and looked up at his boyfriend. "You are nothing like her, alright?" If Derek hadn't had super werewolf hearing it would have been hard to hear him.

"But I am." The alpha was looking in Stiles' direction, but his eyes were unfocused and Stiles knew that all he was seeing was Kate's face.

Stiles tried to control his tone. Getting mad at Derek while he was thinking about Kate could be more dangerous than sticking a fork into an electrical outlet. "You are nothing like Kate, okay? Why would you even think that?" Aside from the crippling self-hatred trait Derek could be the poster child for, which Stiles had made clear he didn't count as a reason.

"I'm a grown-up seducing a sixteen year old boy. How exactly am I any better than her?" Leave it to Derek to pick the most inconsequential resemblance. There was always something, wasn't there?

"Well," Stiles responded scathingly, doing his best to make it clear that he didn't think much of Derek's reasoning, "for one, I doubt you're only doing that because you want to burn my family alive." Blunt, but hopefully effective. "And are you forgetting that you never once pushed me into any of this? If anything, I'm the one who pushed too hard." Which he did, on occasion, consider regretting, for Derek's sake.

"I'm not doing anything I don't want to do," was Derek's reply, and Stiles knew he meant it.

"Neither am I." Derek glanced around the room, clearly trying to avoid looking at the teen. "…But you're still feeling bad about this." Stiles stood so he could make eye contact with his boyfriend more easily.

"Of course I am." Derek's voice began to get steadily louder, and Stiles was _really_ glad his dad was at work. "What we're doing is more than just illegal, it's also immoral, and wrong, and-"

Whatever else it was, Stiles didn't want to hear it. "Are we seriously talking about this again?" His voice was pretty loud too, although not quite yelling. "Derek, we've had this conversation. I don't' care about any of it! At least you're feeling conflicted about it." That counted for something, didn't it?

"That doesn't make me a better person." Apparently not. "I still want things I shouldn't' want. And what's worse, I take the things I shouldn't."

And they were back to Derek being unable to understand that Stiles had a role in this whole thing too. "What is the point of you constantly beating yourself up about this?" Stiles hated when Derek started to guilt trip himself this way; not least because of how helpless it made him feel. He liked to think that he was good for Derek, could help him deal with his demons, but sometimes… Sometimes it all just felt so useless.

"There isn't any. I just don't want to ruin anything else. And I don't want to make things between you and your dad worse."

Stiles winced a little at the reminder and ran a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I don't think it _can _get any worse." He sighed. They did say that when it rained it poured.

"I just want to fix something for a change. Do the right thing." He looked vulnerable right then, but determined.

Stiles felt his heart stammer in his chest. "Are you breaking up with me?" He could hear his voice squeak a little over the words and cursed himself internally.

Derek's head shot up in surprise, eyes widening. "No, of course not. How could I?" He seemed honestly bewildered by the possibility.

"Then, if you could stop talking as if you were, that would be great, 'cause it's seriously starting to freak me out."

Derek could hear the panic in his voice and reached out one hand, clasping it on Stiles' shoulder and pulling him closer. "I love you, Stiles. Way more than I should. It's what got us into this situation in the first place, because I can't stay away from you."

"Who says you need to?" Stiles asked, pleadingly, meeting Derek's gaze and holding it. "Look, I know you think you destroy everything you touch, but that's bullshit, okay?"

Derek didn't respond, which wasn't exactly an acknowledgement of how completely right Stiles was in this matter, but it wasn't an argument either, so Stiles let it drop.

The teenager lay down on his bed, pulling Derek along with him. They lay there, side by side, for maybe an hour or two, not speaking. Just soaking in the other's presence.

Finally, Stiles leaned over, kissed Derek lightly on the lips, then pulled back and said, "If you want to help improve things between me and my dad then I have an idea."

Derek tilted his head quizzically, which Stiles took as a cue to continue. "Maybe you could… come to dinner with me and my dad? He's not your biggest fan right now, but it may help meeting you outside the interrogation room, you know?"

Derek looked hesitant, which Stiles could hardly blame him for. _He _was nervous, and he wasn't the one that was going to get shot if dinner went badly. Nonetheless, Derek nodded. "Alright."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **So, guess who finished this chapter and then forgot about it? Yeah... Sorry. But, hey, it's done now! As always, I own nothing and the original idea and most of the dialogue came from simplystiles on tumblr.

* * *

Stiles was pacing anxiously by the front door, waiting for Derek to arrive. He didn't want his dad to be the one to open the door and have time to scare Derek away before the man even made it into the house. Not that he thought his dad was quite _that_ eager to get rid of Derek, but it was always a good idea to plan ahead. Especially when being on the verge of full-blown panic.

The doorbell finally rang, right on time, but Stiles rather wished Derek had decided to come early to help calm Stiles's jangling nerves. In his shaky state he fumbled a little opening the door.

"Hey, Derek…" He greeted his older boyfriend, trying to sound upbeat, but trailed off as soon as he actually laid eyes on the man. "You're wearing plaid." He had to say it aloud in order to reassure himself that he wasn't hallucinating. It clicked after a moment. "Oh, God, are you trying to impress my dad by dressing like a normal person instead of like a gang leader-slash-model-slash-serial killer?" There was a laugh in his voice by the last few words.

Derek scowled at him without any real bite and looked down at the clothes. "Look, it would help if he didn't see me as a threat anymore than he already does, okay? Despite what my track record suggests, I don't actually enjoy getting shot."

"Well, I'm not complaining," Stiles told him with a shrug. And he really wasn't. Derek was surprisingly attractive in the plaid button up shirt. Not that he wasn't attractive in… Well, in just about anything else ever invented.

"Derek." The sheriff seemed to materialize behind Stiles from thin air and both son and son's-boyfriend jumped a little. "Perfect timing. Now stop flirting with my son in the hallway and come inside."

They all got to the table, sat down, and started digging into their dinners without incident, when the sheriff launched into interrogation mode without so much as a warning. "So, Derek, how long have you been sleeping with my son?"

Stiles choked on a bite of mashed potatoes, but Derek stayed impressively calm. "With all due respect, sir, you can hardly expect me to honestly answer a question that might get me tossed in jail."

"So you have slept with him." It was said calmly, as a statement of fact, as blandly as it might have been if it had been a statement about the fact that it was often sunny outside.

Stiles thought it was time to intervene. "It depends on how you define 'sleeping with me'. Because if you mean, like, 'being in a state of unconsciousness while in the same room', then, yeah, that's happened a couple of times."

His dad gave him that look that meant Stiles was causing all his hair to go gray and he could actually _feel_ it happening. "Seriously, Stiles-"

Stiles, who had now reached the point where he lacked the ability to turn himself on, just barreled straight on. "I can't help that I'm dreamy. My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and all that jazz."

Before the sheriff could respond, Derek gave a light chuckle. It was almost unrecognizable as a laugh, for anyone less familiar with him than Stiles was. "You're so ridiculous."

The sheriff looked up from his plate with a quirked eyebrow. "Is he like that all the time when he's with you too?"

Derek started, as though he had forgotten the man was there. "Uh, yeah."

The older Stilinski smirked. "My sympathies. Sometimes I wonder what went wrong in his upbringing that he turned out like this."

"You guys do realize I'm sitting right here, right?" Stiles interjected, feeling a bit miffed.

Both men ignored him. "There's nothing wrong with him," Derek was saying, "You raised a good kid."

"Exactly, though; he's still a kid," the sheriff replied, as though that was precisely the response he'd been hoping for and expecting. "Now, I can see why Stiles would find you interesting…" He paused, searching for words.

Derek finished the thought for him. "…Because he's physically unable to stay away from trouble."

The man nodded. "Yes, that. But I have to ask, what do you expect to get out of this?"

Derek didn't even have the grace to look offended. "I don't expect anything out of this. I didn't plan for this to happen. But Stiles was just always there and kept showing up and wouldn't go away even when I told him to leave and…" Maybe just a smidge late Derek realized that he probably shouldn't mention all the times he'd threatened Stiles or thrown him into something. "…He's persistent," he finished lamely.

"Yeah, that sound like something he would do."

"Still right here, guys!" When neither of them even glanced over Stiles threw his hands up in defeat. "Oh, God, I can't with the two of you."

"Look, Derek," the sheriff said, "I'm going to be honest with you here. When I first found out you two were dating, I was livid. I still don't know how I feel about it."

"I understand." Derek sounded resigned, and Stiles's stomach lurched as it occurred to him that if his dad forbid them from seeing each other, Derek might just obey.

"I always knew this was serious for him; Stiles doesn't do things half-assed, and when he falls for someone, he falls hard." Stiles winced, knowing his dad was thinking of all the rants about Lydia Martin he'd been forced to endure. "I couldn't think of a reason for a much older guy to be interested in him. I thought this was one-sided, that you were using him. But now, seeing the way you look at him…" Stiles looked up at Derek at that, wondering exactly what look he'd missed. "…It's not one-sided at all, is it?"

Derek shook his head. "No, it really isn't. God know he drives me up the wall like no one else does. But he was there for me when no one else was. I've never met anyone like him. If I was a better man I would've stayed far away from him, but I'm not, and I can't. Believe me, I've tried."

"I believe you, Derek."

The two men stared at each other in silence until Stiles physically could not take it any longer. "Well, that was an incredibly beautiful and heartfelt moment you two had there. Also kind of really embarrassing for me. Now, if we could please move on to the part where you give us your blessing…"

"You know I can't really do that. I'm still the sheriff, and what you're doing is still illegal." He held up a hand to stop Stiles before he could protest. "But I'm not stupid enough to think I can keep you two apart. Stiles usually finds a way to get what he wants eventually. And I also want him to be happy. And since _you_, Derek, seem to make Stiles _very_ happy, I'm willing to turn a blind eye to this."

"Thank you."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles echoed, shocked.

Stiles walked Derek to his car after dinner was over, letting out a relieved sigh once they were out of the house. "Well, that went better than I expected."

"Yeah," Derek agreed, nodding. "Not that I had high expectations. I already would have counted it as a win if I didn't get shot. I certainly didn't expect him to be so accepting of us… and of me."

Stiles chuckled. "Dude, I don't know how you did it, but I'm pretty sure my dad is a little bit in love with you." His grin slowly transformed into a look of disgusted horror. "And you should make me stop continuing down that mental road because that would be mildly traumatizing."

Derek just grinned at his misfortune. "What, are you afraid I'll leave you for him?"

Stiles just glared at him. "One - that's never going to happen. Two - stop giving me these visuals, oh my God, you are the worst and I hate you." But the words lacked any bite.

Derek, with confidence he probably wouldn't have had a few months ago, said, "No, you don't."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Of course I don't." He frowned abruptly. "Now we just have to tell Scott." How Scott hadn't smelled it yet was beyond him, but the fact remained that his best friend remained in the dark.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Any snarky retorts died in Stiles's throat when he saw the way Derek was looking at him. He thought that as long as Derek kept looking at him like that, everything _would _be fine. And that was pretty astonishing.


End file.
